Devastation
by SpazKit
Summary: Rikku's home is destroyed... The anguish is unbearable, when the last person she'd expected comes and eases the pain.


Stupid thing's been sitting in the back of my head for like a week. I wanted to do something different with what I did in misted emotions, and this is what came out. Eh. *shrugs* Yay 1st person view!  
  
  
  
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Devastation  
  
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Fire. Raging inferno that was once everything to me. And yet, all I can do is watch.  
  
Small, mechanical shells that encase massive amounts of explosive, those are what will cause this. I know, even before they leave the ship. I feel the churning of the tubes loading and the hatches releasing. I recognize the groan of the engine as suddenly power is diverted to the lower hull so that these small pieces of metal might be hurled from my father's ship.  
  
And all I can do is… stand here, watching my brother push the little red button. I want to scream, to fight. I want to knock some bloody sense into my father, but a part of me, a part that is more mature than the rest, knows this is the only way.  
  
But that doesn't make it hurt any less.  
  
I feel tears burn the back of my eyes as I stand, frozen, watching the missiles tear through the smoking air to my home. My eyes grow a mind of their own, and as much as I don't want to see this, the small swirling orbs remain focused on those little dots screaming towards oblivion.  
  
I can hear the collision ring my ears. I can feel the devastation burn my heart. And within an eyeblink… it's all gone.  
  
My world is spinning… my heart is ripped apart. Tytto! Please… can you make this pain go away? And then I see the anguish on your face… there is nothing we can do.  
  
Immersed in my own loss and misery, I turn sharply and hurry away, out of the bridge. The clank of my feet against the metal flooring of the ship is dull to my ears. A low buzzing is resonating in them… or perhaps in my mind. Doesn't matter. Nothing matters.  
  
Why work so hard when it's all going to be thrown away?  
  
Before I am aware, I'm entering a room on the lower floor, away from everyone else. The room is barely lit, the engines sucking power from these unused decks. A spare resting quarters apparently; I have never been here before. A bunk bed has been placed in the corner, the top mattress covered in forgotten machina, but the lower bed looks habitable. A dull metal sink lines the wall, accompanied by a cracked mirror. I glance back to the small mattress. My worn body longs to collapse, but the rage is too fresh, to raw.  
  
A twitch starts up my leg, running through my spine and reaching my shoulders. I struggle to hold it all in, but hey, what the hell. I'm alone as I'll ever be.  
  
I scream.  
  
The sound is foreign even to my ears, a screech of anguish. I smash my small fists into the metal wall, ignoring the pain, ignoring the blood, ignoring it all but this feeling, this acid eating through my soul. I pound, over and over again, not aware as my hands become bloody pulp. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters.  
  
"Rikku!"  
  
My name; someone is in the room, I don't know who. It doesn't matter, I just keep pounding. Something restrains me, or someone. My lithe body is no match for the power in it's grasp, and I struggle in vain.  
  
"Fuck off! Leave me alone!" I howl, kicking and fighting. The pain, it fuels me, it lends me its strength, for without it I would surely collapse. I fight for several minutes, the world a blind haze of red. My arms are bound, but my legs strike my visitor's own, resulting in a grunt of pain.  
  
"Rikku-" a low hiss, the voice grating and low, almost a rumble traveling from his chest to my back. I fight and fight… and then… why? What's the point? It won't matter anyway.  
  
I suddenly stop, growing deathly still. I hear the inhale of surprise behind me, the stranger obviously not expecting my actions. I slide weakly to the floor. The rage, the pain, it's there… but now, it's migrated to my mind. Physically, I am lost. There was no point to fighting further, my mind was slipping away to a world not of this one; a memory of destruction and my imagination creating images of what probably happened to my home. I could practically hear the screams of the remaining fallen, those waiting to die. I could smell the blood in the air, mingling with smoke and sulfuric acid. So vivid, to true…  
  
I collapse to the cold floor, the hum of the engines below vibrating through my long bare legs. The figure sinks behind me as well, though I am barely aware. Images cloud my mind and thoughts, images not of the bloody wall before me. And yet, I cannot cry. I will not let the Guado win. I will not cry, I will not be the immature sixteen-year-old I am expected to be. I will not cry.  
  
What would be the point?  
  
I feel something cold on the back of my neck, something metal. The sensation temporarily jars me from my own little world, and I feel my warden twist and move behind me. Something hits the floor, sounds like cloth or a soft object. Two bare hands slide up my forearms to my bloody and mangled hands. For the first time, I realize that they hurt horribly. But it's not important.  
  
"Let me go," I state monotone to whomever is holding me against my will. The hands hesitate on my wrists, then release me, and I stand, still facing the wall. My body is ill-used and shaking, but it doesn't matter. Then I turn and cast my cold and unfeeling gaze to the floor.  
  
Shock ripples through my pain for a split second at who I find there.  
  
He's sitting, legs spread on the ground beneath me, staring up at me through dark glass. Auron?  
  
From the angle, I can see down his collar. His face is composed, as expected, but his eye is piercing my skull.  
  
"Can you control yourself now?" he asks, his deep voice unemotional as mine had just been. His eye slides to my hands, and for a moment, I think I see something along the lines of concern. I doubt it, it must be my imagination. Why would he, mighty guardian Sir Auron be concerned about a simple child as me?  
  
"Why the hell do you care?" I ask coldly, turning away. The hands, they sting something awful, but I ignore it. Deep feelings of loss and grief begin to eat away at my rage. I cringe; I would rather the anger than the remorse. I struggle to hold my will and cling to that pain.  
  
I walk defiantly to the sink, staring at myself in the broken mirror. My eyes are not my own, but that of a wild animal. My face is drawn tightly over my features, a grimace taking my lips. My hair is disheveled, strands sliding over each other and down my face. With a trembling hand, I try to wipe the hair away, and in doing so I leave a bloody streak across my forehead.  
  
I look down, trying to keep my resolve strong. Perhaps because of the man in the room whom I always try to impress, perhaps because I know if I fall… I will not be able to get back up.  
  
Two hands slide behind mine. My world is muffled and surreal; I had not heard him approach.  
  
Still looking down, I watch as if in a trance as he turns on the water from the faucet. He places his own fingers beneath, feeling the water. Then he takes my smaller hands in his and begins to clean the blood. He was incredulously gentle, more so than I thought he would. Regardless, I twitch in pain, but successfully keep myself from crying out.  
  
I watch as my blood slides down the drain. I watch as fresh blood oozes from my knuckles. And yet, I feel nothing on the inside, nothing but pain.  
  
Auron shifted position behind me silently his gray cloak pressing into my shoulder as he cleans my wounds wordlessly. It was so surreal. It just could not be happening. My home… and this…  
  
I don't know how long we stood there. Finally, I raised my gaze to the mirror as he finished with my hands. I watch as little strands of his hair wave back and forth as his shoulders move with his hands.  
  
"You don't have to do that," I hear myself saying, the words not my own but yet still coming from my dangerously cold voice. His eye raises itself to the mirror.  
  
"You can go away," I said again, without my consent. It was as if some cold- hearted ass had taken residence in my mind. He said nothing.  
  
"Leave me alone!" I erupt, pushing back. Startled, I made little progress as Auron grabbed the metal sink, holding steady against my weight. I felt my shoulders dig into his chest as I struggled in anguish. I can't do this forever! Go away! Leave me alone with all of this!  
  
"No."  
  
The rumble was sufficient enough to take myself away from my thoughts. Glancing to the mirror, his face was emotionless again.  
  
"Damn it! Leave me fucking alone!" I howl, twisting to face him, hitting his chest with my hands. I gasp in sudden pain, the wounds re-opening as I stuck him. I freeze.  
  
His hands come to mine again, gently holding them against his chest. The tenderness of his sudden actions startles me from my coldness, and I suddenly feel… tiny. Like a little girl. The transformation was instant, and stiffened in horror as my rage was suddenly replaced by a child-like agony and grief. This was not what I'd wanted!  
  
Auron remains silent, still pressing my hands to his torso. I glance to his face, wondering if he was aware of my inner struggles to maintain the rage. His eye was… warm. There was compassion there. I was again startled.  
  
"It's alright," he said softly, his thumb running over my undamaged index finger ever so lightly. His words were soothing, somehow. I wondered why.  
  
I fought as hard as I could… and I feel it now… my wall of stability, my anger… receding. I fall.  
  
Auron catches me.  
  
I lie here, a puddle of misery and grief. I grasp his bare arm in a last, desperate attempt to survive these emotions, to anchor myself to this world so that I might not sink forever into despair. He doesn't fight me in the least, and holds me near as a never ending flow of salted tears run the length of my face. I hear his steady heartbeat thudding against my ear and it… calms me. What is this? A man, so ready to watch me scream in horror on the thunder plains suddenly so concerned? I am confused. He apparently is not as he holds me nearer, but then again, such it is with Auron. Never afraid, never showing weakness. A strength now taking residence in my heart forever for his kindness. Kindness I'd not thought he possessed.  
  
I feel the pain rip through my being and I spasm, rocking against his form. He grunts, but remains, suddenly removing his glasses and collar, placing them at our left. His face… I'd not seen it before, but before I can examine him, I spasm again, tears blurring the world anyway.  
  
"Shh," he hushed softly into my ear as he begins to rock, gently and in even rhythm. "I know… I know," he says with emotion in his voice, though the words have little meaning to me at the moment. I'm too caught up in this lingering agony to notice the significance of his confession.  
  
The rocking, his murmurs, whatever, it calms me. I feel my tears and wracking pain begin to subside… I almost thought it never would. How long have we sat here, Auron? How long have you held me? Why are you in the first place? Such questions whisper in my mind as I stare at the dull metal pipes leading down from the sink.  
  
Auron shifts position, his chin moving from my head to my nose as it brushed by my face. I feel his stubble against my wet skin. He meets my gaze, and I am astounded to see… a man. A person. Not just a guardian or a walking sword-sheath, but a human being who had the balls and concern to stay. I stare in awe. A small smile touches his face, the expression so good on his usually stern features.  
  
He lifts me with ease and makes his way to the small cot. With the utmost care, Auron settles me down on the blessed mattress and pulls the covers over me. I feel apprehension burning me for a moment when I realize he was leaving, and I grab his hand. He stiffens before catching the involuntary reaction to my touch.  
  
"…stay?" I ask. Since when am I so needy? I've never wanted his company before, why do I want this so badly now? And I really mean I want it. I actually feel tears brew at the thought of his departure. Suddenly, I am but a child. Afraid of the darkness… and being alone.  
  
Conflict is expressed on his face as his eye darts around, trying to come to a decision. After a beat, he looks to me again.  
  
"I… will."  
  
With that, he turns and leaves me alone. I whimper as he snatched his belongings and leaves me, shutting off the light. ….Auron?  
  
Time passes. I lie here, images of the day screaming through my mind. My will to fight is gone, and I am no match for the pain now. Tears soak the pillow as I huddle alone in the darkness. Sleep is not an ally, for the memories only follow me to my sleep.  
  
During the night, I awaken. The images of my friends deaths are burned, imprinted in my mind. I cry.  
  
I was not even aware he'd returned.  
  
A depression in the mattress occurs, and I start, shocked. Auron is behind me, sliding into the narrow bed. I turn around to face him, grabbing blinding for his form. Please!  
  
He's here, he's here. His head's hitting the pillow, resting beside mine. His dark shirt is in my battered hands as I grasp him with ferocity. The bunk is narrow, forcing him close, and I'm surprised to find myself glad. Warmth and safety come with his presence, and the closer I am the better I find myself feeling. As he pulls the covers up, I desperately clutch his frame, still fighting off the images plaguing my mind. In the darkness, we lie here, and I have never been more glad to see a stuffy reserved swordsman in my life.  
  
As he gets comfortable, his hand brushes by my tear soaked pillow. He pauses.  
  
"Rikku…" he murmurs, concern dripping through his rich voice. I'd never thought he'd say my name with anything other than annoyance and distaste.  
  
He sighs deeply, one arm sliding beneath our pillow whilst the other… touches me, resting behind me as his forearm encircles my waist beneath my own trembling arm. Safety incarnate. His body warmth is radiating upon me and his scent is something I never thought I'd truly know, or enjoy. These were all distractions from my pain… and I was entirely unaware.  
  
The pain… it's still there. I feel perhaps it would always be there. But right now… I'm not alone. I inhale shakily, unsure of how to act in such an intimate embrace. But Auron… his eye is closed and his breaths against my face are growing deeper and unguarded. I think he's falling asleep. He was unknowingly sparing me from the mild awkwardness of the embrace, but the comfort was easily outweighing this insecurity.  
  
I think of home… and then I think of Yunie for the first time since the airship. I think of Tidus and then I think of my father. For the first time, other thoughts are permitted to swim in my mind, and the relief is wondrous. For the first time, I feel hope that perhaps these feelings will pass.  
  
The darkness is no longer something I fear, and I have no reason to fear loneliness because… Auron is here. The pressure of his thick body against mine is evidence of this enough. I am a little afraid of falling asleep…  
  
But I hope that if I should waken in pain, then he will help me. Because I was wrong when I thought that nothing matters. This… this bond, it matters. People helping each other, that matters. And as I slipped away to dreams, it warmed my grieving heart that I too, mattered, in the eyes of the older guardian.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
***Well, that was fun. Huraah! Only a crapload of monsters to catch before I get the Auron thingie from the monster guy! Dammit all to hell. Stupid no- good @#$!@#$%! …. O_o It's… three am. Ye-haw. Hope you liked it. Review! Make me feel all warm and gushy inside! Oh wait… that might be my sleep deprivation. Oh well, whichever. ^_^  
  
-Spazkit 


End file.
